Sparks Fly
by sox95
Summary: Takes place after the events at the tower in season 1. It is about Monroe finding someone from his past and both of them trying to overcome what happened between them while still fighting bad guys. I'm not good at summaries and I don't want to give anything away!
1. Chapter 1

**So this story starts after the events at the tower in season 1. It may seem kinda slow to start but it will pick up I promise! This is the first thing I have ever published so constructive reviews are much appreciated. Bass Monroe is my fav character so I made the story around him but will add Miles, Charlie, and Conner later. I do not follow season 2 story line but will use things from it like the patriots. I have many good ideas for this story so I hope you will enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing it! **

Chapter 1

Sebastian Monroe walked on a deserted dirt road. He had been walking for weeks and hadn't seen many people. He knew he had to be in Texas now. Ever since the tower he had been trying to rap his head around what had happened. Like everyday since, he thought first about how Neville had taken over his army and had, had his own men shooting at him. Rage filled him, how dare he take what was his! He would kill Neville if he ever saw him again. He realized how unlikely that was and moved on to his other topic. The bombing of his city. His and Miles city, the one they had build back up together. The only good thing that had remained of their broken friendship. That thought always led him to think how Miles had come back and set him free. In his mind that meant that Miles still cared deep down, after all he had said they were still brothers. That had hit Monroe harder than he would have liked to emit. He signed shaking his head as if it could rid him of the thoughts that plagued his mind in the daylight and haunted his dreams at night. He looked wearily around, with no one for company, there was nothing to keep his mind from playing every bad memory he had over and over. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a twig snapping behind him. Instinct made him drop to the ground, avoiding the branch that had been swung at his head. He grabbed for his sword, but was tackled by a different assailant from the side. They wrestled on the ground for a minute, before Monroe threw him off of him. Both scrambled to their feet, Monroe unsheathing his sword and his opponent a knife. Monroe backed away so he had both his attackers in front of him. He noticed both were in their 30s, and had a ruff, hard look to them. He didn't get to study them anymore as they both rushed him. He was able to wound one of them, but now the other one was behind him. Both rushed him again and he ran the one in front of him though with his blade. He only half turned when he felt the blade at his throat.

"Jimmy? You ok?" Said the man behind him.

"Easy there friend." Said Monroe, feeling the blade tighten on his throat.

"Jimmy? You killed him you son of a…" He didn't get to finish his sentence as an arrow lodged itself in his neck. His free hand went to his neck, his eyes bulging. His knife hand loosened enough for Monroe to slip out. He turned and watched as the man fell to his knees, then forward on his face. He looked up as five figures approached him, three had crossbows and one a hand gun. Three women and two men, all having swords on their hips. He looked in surprise as the obvious leader strolled towards the bodies on the ground, an assault rifle in her hands. She rolled both men over looking at the faces.

"Yup its them." She said, "We have been trying to catch these murderers for a while now. Sneaky bastards." She turned and smirked at him.

"Your lucky….." She trailed off as she faced him, swallowing hard. The look on her face told him all he need to know, she recognized him.

"Yeah lucky me." He said looking around trying to spot an escape route.

"You know this guy Nahla?" asked one of the young women. Monroe noted she didn't look over 17, with straight long brown hair. Then again the others didn't look much older than that, save the leader. She looked closer to his age.

"Not personally, no. But I know of him. This is General Monroe." The others looked at him as if sizing him up, as she glared at him. Monroe let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. So she didn't know for sure. She had never met him, probably never seen him, maybe he could talk his way out of this.

"I'm not General Monroe…" He began only to be cut off by the leader, Nahla, her eyes flashing as she raised the rifle to point at him.

"Whoa, Whoa! Easy!" Monroe yelled raising his hands in surrender.

"Don't you dare try to talk your way out of this you dam two tongued bastard! You don't think I would know who you are after what you did to HER!" She yelled, her finger twitching dangerously on the trigger of the rifle. Monroe swallowed hard. Her, she had said her. He mind spun as he tried to remember every female that had ever crossed his path. There were too many! He needed more information.

"Her? Her who?" He asked as calmly as he could.

"You've probably been with too many to remember a specific face." She said her voice dripping sarcasm. "But you would remember her."

"You're right, there have been a lot." He answered, smiling his most charming smile at her. Her face twisted in disgust, her trigger finger twitched again.

"Maybe we should take him back to camp? She will be able tell us if he really is General Monroe." Said the young girl that had spoke earlier. The leader finally seemed to notice how edgy her companions had become and she relaxed slightly, much to Monroe's relief.

"Fine. Tie him up." The girl nodded and handing her cross bow to one of the others, grabbed the length of rope hanging from her waist and proceeded to bind his hands together behind his back. He noticed one of the others retrieve his sword and the weapons of the two dead men.

"Lets go General." Said the young girl after she had finished tying his hands. She pushed him in the direction the leader had started in, noticing her scanning the area with her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

They walked for a few hours, through the trees. Monroe couldn't help, but get mesmerized every time he looked up at the sunlight filtering through the tall trees. God was he tired of walking! A shove from behind made him stumble and he turned to glare at the young boy that was responsible. He only smiled and looked at him with a look that said "what are you going to do about it?". Monroe slowly turned back around, as they crossed a bridge. He looked down at the clear, clean water in the creek below. Up ahead he saw a two-story farmhouse and several small sheds around it. As they came out of the woods he noted several more small sheds being built and tents off to the side. He noted a corral with horses milling around. A fast horse could be a possible escape route, if things got bad. The shouts of men made him turn to his left to see men on horses herding a small herd of cattle towards them.

"Wow" said Monroe. He hadn't seen anything like this in a while. The leader threw a smirk his way. They reached the house and were greeted by several young kids. One of the young men picked up, what must have been a sibling and swung her around, making her giggle. A girl around 16 with dark hair and dark skin came out of the house, a basket of clothes in her arms.

"Hey Em," called Nahla to the girl. When she didn't turn she called louder.

"Emma!" Monroe felt a tug at his heart at the name, memories he really didn't want to think about swam before him. He was back in Jasper on that dreadful night, hearing the gunshot, feeling her go limp in his arms. He clenched his teeth together. "No, not now. Not ever." He thought. He hated thinking about that night. He swallowed hard and concentrated on the girl, who had now turned and walked back towards them, trying to push thoughts of his Emma out of his head.

"Where is she?" she asked the girl. It annoyed Monroe that she still didn't give a name just "her" and "she". The girl pointed to the tree line behind the house. Nahla's eyes followed her finger.

"Thanks Em." She said nodding to the girl. The girl finally seemed to notice him. She looked at him and her eyes widened. She opened her mouth in a silent scream then dropped the basket and ran as if the devil were chasing her. "I'll take him from here." She said grabbing his arm, none to gently, pushing him in the direction the girl had pointed in. The others shifted nervously and eyed him.

"Are you sure?" Asked the girl that had bound his hands.

"Yeah Lily." Said Nahla, giving the girl a reassuring smile before adding, "I'll be fine. Go check on Emma, make sure she doesn't get lost."

The girl nodded and turned to go find the other girl. As they walked away, Monroe frowned, "What was wrong with the girl?" Her grip on his arm tightened.

"You're what's wrong with that girl, you and your stupid militia." Monroe rolled his eyes. He should have known better than to ask, but he was curious.

"What happened?" Nahla let out an irritated breath beside him. There was silence between them for a minute and Monroe began to think she wasn't going to answer him.

"When she was eight, your soldiers came to her village. They didn't have enough food for themselves, much less to give to your soldiers. When her father refused to pay they grabbed Emma and pointed a gun at her. Her father gave them everything, but the man holding Emma shot him anyways, to set an example. He discharged the gun right next to her ear so now she does hear very good out of that ear. They killed the rest of her family just to make sure they got their point across." Monroe had been right, he shouldn't have asked. He glanced at her and saw the muscles in her jaw working as she clenched her jaws together. They walked in silence the rest of the way. They reached another creek and Nahla pushed him to walk up stream. They walked until they reached a small clearing, where she stopped him. She looked around her eyes scanning her surroundings. She frowned and gave a sharp, piercing whistle. They turned at the sound of a branch cracking, to see a figure leaning against a tree. A cowboy hat and the evening light, hid her face in shadow. He felt Nahla relax beside him and knew that this was the "her" that he was suppose to remember. Knowing his life probably depended on knowing this women, he really hoped it wasn't one of his one-night stands since he never paid any attention to them. The girl moved towards him, lifting her head. Monroe squinted into the blinding rays of the sun, the suspense annoying him. As her face finally came into view, Monroe gasped, his jaw dropping in surprise. No it couldn't be, could it?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Hello Monroe. How's life been?" Said the women, a smirk on her face as she took slow steps towards him. Monroe swallowed hard as memories came flooding back. _The beautiful women before him, laughing as they danced in Liberty Hall, her whispering sweet things of love and passion in his ear at night. Her in his arms covered in blood after taking a bullet to save him._

"Joan." Was all he was able to choke out as the memories drug up old emotions. Her eyes flashed at her name. As the memories continued to flash in his mind, she continued to close the distance between them. She walked with those slow, sexy, deliberate steps, until she was right in front of him. Her nose almost touching his, her emerald green eyes staring straight into his pure blue ones. He nervously wet his dry lips. What was it about her that always drove him crazy? His eyes suddenly widened as he saw the glint of a knife. She leaned in closer, her arms going around him. His heart skipped a beat. Her lips were so close. He felt the knife cut the rope that bound his hands. She flashed an evil smile as she backed away. He swallowed the emotions threatening to over come him and looked down at his hands, rubbing his wrists.

"You didn't answer my question Monroe." She said, an edge to her voice. He looked up to see the smirk had returned. He almost flinched under her piercing gaze, but didn't only glared right back at her. He remembered how much he hated it when she would do that. He pondered her question for a moment.

"Life's been hell lately." He said finally, letting sarcasm seep in.

"Good." She said matter of factly. They began their private little staring contest, neither willing to let the other win. Nahla cleared her throat.

"It's getting dark, we should head back." She glanced at Monroe.

"What do you want to do with him?"

"Kill him." Replied Joan. Nahla immediately raised her rifle and cocked it. Monroe's eyes flew to hers. Would she really just kill him? Just like that? Joan laughed.

"I win." She said with a triumph smile, putting her hand on Nahla's gun lowering it. Anger swelled in Monroe. She had tricked him!

"That's not fair!" He said. Why was he so angry again? It was just a dumb game that they used to play. Then again everything about her made his blood boil.

"Go cry to Miles then" She said chuckling. He glared at her. Then he realized, she didn't know about Miles and him. He opened his mouth to say something, but a loud crash is heard coming from the direction of the house. Both Joan and Nahla whirl around and take off at a dead run towards their home, leaving Monroe to chase after them. "Why am I chasing them?" Thought Monroe, "I should be running the opposite direction." They burst out of the trees and continue to run hard for the house. They see the smoke coming from one of the unfinished sheds. People are running everywhere. They reach the center of the commotion and see several men trying to pull a man out from under broken lumber, others are trying to beat at the flames that continue to grow.

"Get that fire out now!" Joan yelled, rushing to help. No one sees the fire start to spread to the grass as they try to contain the main fire. Monroe notices and quickly grabs a bucket of water from a passing person, dossing the flames before they spread to the big house. Joan glances up and their eyes meet. She takes in the scene and nods her thanks to him. It is dark by the time they finally put all the flames out. Joan orders a few people to stay up and watch it, just to be on the safe side. Joan and Nahla, their heads bent in low conversation, walk to the big house. Monroe rolls his eyes and follows. What did they forget about him? As if in answer to his thought Nahla glances at him and continues to whisper to Joan. He tries to listen but can hear nothing. As they enter the house, Monroe looks around surprised. The house is decorated like a hunting lodge would have been before the blackout, complete with animal head wall mounts. He stares at them wearily, they had always creeped him out. He turned to find Joan watching him. Nahla had disappeared somewhere.

"I like what you did with the heads." He said sarcastically jerking he thumb at them. She laughed and shook her head.

"They were there when we found this place. It must have been a rich mans hunting lodge. It was loaded with supplies, food, meds, pretty much everything." Monroe nodded his head, casting his eyes around.

"Joan you want anything?" called Nahla from somewhere, the kitchen he guessed. She looked at him.

"You hungry Monroe?" She asked. He stomach rumbled, there hadn't been much to eat between here and Colorado.

"Yeah I could eat." He answered walking to her.

"Monroe does." She called back, a grin on her lips. In answer a toaster came flying from the open door way. Joan ducked and laughed.

"Missed me!" She yelled as they entered the kitchen. A knife landed in the door frame next to Monroe's head.

"Jeez!" He shouted, his eyes widening. He looked at Nahla standing there facing her friend.

"Wasn't aiming for you." She said to her with a smirk, glancing at Monroe. He pried the large knife out of the wall, still looking at it in disbelief. Did that really just happen? He asked himself, watching as the two women went on gathering stuff for their dinner as if nothing had happened. "Great, their crazy," thought Monroe.

"Let me see that Monroe." Said Joan holding her hand out as she eyed the onion in front of her.

"No I think I'll hang on to this one. You can get another one." He said as he looked nervously at Nahla who was cutting a tomato. Joan rolled her eyes and grabbed another knife from a drawer. Nahla smiled mischievously at him. Emma came in though the kitchen door carrying a platter of various meats. The smell made Monroe's stomach twist in hunger. Both the women licked their lips obviously feeling the same as Monroe. He saw the young girl start to panic when she saw him. Joan quickly stepped between them as Nahla took the platter from her before she dropped their dinner. Joan pushed him towards the living room.

"Stay here." She ordered. If he hadn't been so hungry he might have disobeyed her. He wanted to talk to the girl, maybe she would see that he wasn't the monster she thought he was. A few minutes later Joan and Nahla emerged from the kitchen with plates in their hands. His mouth watered.

"Ok Monroe you can go get yours." Joan said as her and Nahla sat down. He was slightly disappointed. A memory came to his mind of Joan setting a plate down in front of him before sitting across from him, her eyes dancing in the candle light, a smile on her face.

"You used to bring me dinner." He said thoughtfully. The two women immediately stopped talking and glared at him. He swallowed hard as he realized that he had said it out loud.

"That was then Monroe. A lot has happened since then." She said coldly. Everything about her had gone cold as she glared at him. He closed his eyes and just turned and walked into the kitchen, her screams echoing in his mind as if it had happened yesterday.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it has taken so long to put up another chapter but life got in the way. Lol So the next 2 chapters are from Joan's point of view. I wanted yall to get to know her a little bit better and this was the best way. I'm sorry that it is a bit repetitive but I thought it would be cool to see what both of them were thinking/feeling when they see each other again. Please review and tell me what you think of the characters and story so far.**

Chapter 4

Joan had been lounging in a tree when she heard someone approaching. She glanced down, knowing it would be Nahla or Lily. She was fixing to jump down when she saw Nahla, but stopped when she saw the figure with her. She cocked her head to the side, waiting for the pair to get closer. She squinted at the figure, gasping as she recognized Monroe. Her blood ran cold even as her heart fluttered. She hated how her heart went crazy around him. She shook her head to clear it and a smile played across her lips as she quietly climbed down the tree. She leaned against the tree as Nahla whistled for her. She glanced down and found a small branch that had fallen. She stepped on it, making a loud crack. Both whirled to face her, she noticed the annoyed expression on Monroe's face and she chuckled.

"Hello Monroe. How's life been?" He looked so shocked to see her. She decided to tease him a little bit. She walked slowly towards him, making her steps slow and deliberate, until she was right there in front of him. Noticing his hands tied behind his back, she pulled out her knife and reached around him. Noticing his eyes flash at the sight of the knife. She had to fight to keep her composure more than she would ever admit to anyone. She loved how his eyes told her everything, loved the look he got when he wanted her. God she had forgotten how blue his eyes were! She cut the rope binding him quickly and before she lost herself in those deep blue eyes, slowly backed away smiling at him. She almost laughed when he looked down at his wrists.

"You didn't answer my question." She said, hoping he would look up. He did and she stared disappointedly into his eyes that no longer held the emotion they had moments before. Instead the cold, calculating General Monroe stared back at her. A chill ran up her spine as they engaged in their staring contest. She would win this one she told herself, to make up for all the others she had lost, all those years ago. She heard Nahla shift nervously beside her. It had surprised her that she hadn't killed Monroe on the spot. Maybe she was waiting for her to say it was ok? Did she really think that she still cared for Monroe? She felt a pain in her heart. Did she?

"What do you want to do with him?" asked Nahla. She almost smiled as an idea formed.

"Kill him." Monroe's eyes widened and flew to Nahlas'. Nahla had again surprised her by the speed at which she brought the rifle up to level it at Monroe's chest. She didn't even hesitate! Then again after the stories she had told her of her time with Monroe she couldn't really blame her. If a man had done to Nahla what Monroe had done to her she would not have hesitated either. They were sisters in every since except blood, mess with one you messed with both.

"I win." Joan said, feeling the triumph of beating Monroe. Finally she had beat him at his own game!

"That's not fair!" He yelled. She noted how mad he looked, remembering that he hated to lose. Anger flared in her. How dare he get mad at her! It wasn't like he had ever played by the rules!

"Go cry to Miles." She replied, smirking at her jab at him. She had expected him to explode in anger like the last time she had said that. She winced as the memory brought back the pain to her jaw. Instead of getting angry, his face fell and he opened his mouth to say something. He was interrupted by a loud crash coming from the direction of the house. Her and Nahla both wheeled and took off for the house. There was no communication needed, they just needed to get back as fast as possible. For a brief moment her thoughts went to Monroe, would he follow them or turn and run?

She saw the smoke and shook her head to clear it. She couldn't think about him right now. They reached the center of the commotion and tried to take it in. Her eyes followed the black smoke that was drifting towards the sky. Fear struck her, as she realized it would be visable for miles. No telling who would come to investigate. Bandits? War clans? The list of bad possibilities was endless!

"Get that fire out now!" She yelled. Already there was buckets of water being thrown onto the flames. She began to stomp out the smaller flames trying to spread to the grass around it. She glanced to the side then did a double take, Monroe was throwing a bucket of water on a fire that had been on its way to the big house. No one else had caught it but him. He looked up at her and she nodded to him. Turning back to fight the fire, she wondered why had he followed them?

It is dark by the time they put the fire out.

"Lily!" She yells. The young girl lifts her head and comes to stand beside her.

"Your in charge. Assign a few to keep an eye on this and a few more guards tonight, who knows what that smoke will attract." The girl nods her head and turning, starts calling people to her. With a last look at the fire Joan turns and starts to walk towards the house. Nahla is beside her and leans in so that only she can hear.

"Why is he still here?" She asked.

"I don't know." Joan replied, determined not to look back at him.

"Well get rid of him or I will!" She snapped back.

"With his skills he could be useful." She said calmly. Nahla glanced back at Monroe trailing a few paces back.

"What good is a cold blooded killer?" She said looking hard at Joan. Joan smiles at her.

"Someone like that can do a lot," she says with an unamused laugh. "Look what I did with this place." She said a hard edge to her voice, striding a little ahead of her. Nahla winced at her words replying quietly.

"Yeah but what did it cost you." She looked back at Monroe. _And what had it cost him?_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

As her and Nahla entered the house, Nahla striding purposefully towards the kitchen. Joan turned to Monroe and found him looking up at the wall mounts. She chuckled, remembering how much he hated them. A memory flashed in her mind of her and Monroe in a big two-story house similar to this one.

_They had been on their way back to Philly but decided to stop for the night. She had been with Monroe for a year then and had started to notice some of the signs of paranoia, but tonight it was just them and he seemed at ease. It was a rare moment with out Miles or the Militia guard that followed him everywhere. Those were the only times he really opened up to her. They sat on an old but still comfy couch together, her head resting on his chest. She could tell something was wrong. _

"_What's wrong Bass?" She asked. _

"_Nothing." He said. He sounded distant as if he were in deep thought. She rolled her eyes and sat up. He turned towards her with a questioning look._

"_What's wrong?" She asked, looking him in the eyes. He took a deep breath before answering._

"_Its funny really. You see I hate the heads." She frowned and followed his gaze to a big longhorn shoulder mount on the wall. She couldn't stop herself from busting out laughing._

"_Why?" She asked in between laughs._

"_I don't know they have just always creeped me out." She started laughing again._

"_Why?" _

"_We used to have one in my house when I was younger. I wouldn't even get out of bed to use the bathroom at night, cause I was so scared of it." He explained, shaking his head and laughing a little._

"_Bass its dead! It couldn't hurt you!" _

"_I know that now! But when I was five I didn't!" They were both laughing now._

She couldn't help but smirk at the memory. She studied the man in front of her, remembering how different he had been from the day she had met him to the day she had left. He turned around.

"I like what you did with the heads." She couldn't help but laugh, the way he said it reminded her of that night and the man he used to be. She could have swore she saw smile tugging at his lips as he looked around.

"Joan you want anything?" Nahla called from the kitchen. She was fixing to go into the kitchen when she remembered Monroe. She hesitated before asking him.

"You want anything Monroe?" He nodded and walked to her.

"Yeah I could eat." She cast a smirk at Monroe as she called back to her.

"Monroe does!" She had been expecting her to throw something but a toaster? Really? She thought as she walked into the kitchen. "Missed me!" She taunted as she entered the kitchen. She never saw the knife, only Nahla's hand move.

"Jeez!" She heard Monroe say causing her to look back and see the knife. She looked back at Nahla, one eyebrow raised. Nahla was a master when it came to throwing knives. Her remarkable ability had saved both their lives many times.

"Wasn't aiming for you." Said Nahla looking coolly back at her. She glanced at Monroe with a smirk as he pried the knife out of the wood. She chuckled to herself before turning to continue what she was doing before. Joan shrugged and grabbed an onion. She glanced around and noted that Nahla had the other knife that had been laying on the counter. She glanced at Monroe.

"Let me see that Monroe." She said holding her hand out.

"No I think I'll hold on to this one. You can get another one." She looked up at him and saw him looking nervously at Nahla as she sliced a tomato. She rolled her eyes and reached for another knife. Nahla looked up smiling mischievously at him, a wicked gleam in her eyes. It was funny really for someone like Monroe to be nervous around Nahla. Then again Joan knew that Nahla could probably carve Monroe up like a Thanksgiving turkey if she really got the mind to. And judging by the way she was acting she was close to it.

Joan's thoughts were interrupted by Emma coming into the kitchen with a platter full of an assortment of meats. She remembered ordering the slaughter of an old cow that had gone lame and had not healed, that morning. She licked her lips as her mouth watered. Emma stopped suddenly aware of Monroe's presence. _Oh crap._ Nahla was quick to grab the tray as Joan pushed Monroe back through the door and into the living room.

"Stay here." She ordered, hoping he wouldn't be stupid enough to disobey her. She wasn't sure what she would do if he did come back in the kitchen while Emma was still there, but she knew that Nahla wouldn't be aiming for the doorframe if he did. They both felt a strange since of protection for the mute girl. For Nahla it was because she had found the young girl freezing and half starved to death. For her it was out of guilt. She had had the chance to end the Republic so many times. She could have stopped what had happened to Emma and the countless others that had suffered at the hands of the Monroe Militia. She swallowed hard as the guilt threatened to over take her, as it had many nights before when she thought too much about the sins of her past.

"Joan?" She looked up, trying hard to focus on the present.

"Hmm?" She asked seeing Nahla looking at her knowingly, holding a full plate out to her. She noticed that Emma was nowhere to be found. She sighed and taking the plate headed into the living room. She was surprised to find Monroe waiting patiently.

"Ok Monroe you can go get yours." She said, noticing the way his face fell.

"So are we going scouting in the morning?" Asked Nahla, as they sat on the big couch. Joan shrugged as she chewed on the meat, noticing the blood in it. _Damn. She was going to get a hold of someone tomorrow._

"Sure." She said not getting a chance to add anything to it before being interrupted.

"You used to bring me dinner." Said Monroe, sounding deep in thought. Joan's jaw dropped as she tried to recover. _Did he really just said that?_ Her whole body had gone cold. She glared at him, as she was sure Nahla was doing. He seemed to realize his mistake because he opened and closed his mouth but no words came out.

"That was then Monroe. A lot has happened since then." She said coldly. He finally just turned and went into the kitchen.

She swallowed hard as she looked down at the meat in front of her. The piece of cloth tied around her wrist had loosened and raised, burnt skin of the Monroe Militia brand could be seen peaking out. Swallowing the bile in her throat, she set the plate of food on the table and stood up on shaky legs. She needed to get out of here.

"Joan? You ok?" Asked Nahla, her features full of worry for the girl she had called sister for so long.

"I'm fine I just… I just need to get away for awhile ok?" She said with a nod, struggling to keep her voice strong. She opened the door and walked out into the night, her mind a mess of memories.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry its been so long! I have had this written for a week, just haven't had the chance to upload it. So I didn't want the flashback to be this long but I kind of got carried away a little. Lol I love writing about Bass during the Republic days, it's so fun! Thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews! It is awesome to know that people are actually reading this. Plus it makes me write chapters faster so please review and give me feedback! Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 6

_Bass walked into Liberty Hall, closing the doors to shut out the cool night air, his face full of frustration. He had just come back from a meeting where he had learned of several attempts at rebellion in his Republic. His Militia had put them down, but there had been heavy casualties. Not only were they dealing with the rebels, but also several Georgian spies had been captured in the Republic. One had spilled about an impending war between the Monroe Republic and the Georgia Federation. He sighed heavily as he layed his gun on the table and draped his coat over a chair. He needed a drink. No he needed more than a drink, he needed her to tell him everything was going to work out fine. Miles had been against him in the meeting, saying that putting troops on the Georgian border and housing them in the towns close by would enflame the current rebel situation. He knew she would be on his side, she always was. _

"_Joan?" he called, looking towards the bedroom. He poured himself a drink of whiskey before walking to the big double doors and knocking softly. "Joan?" No answer. Thinking she was probably asleep, he slowly pushed the doors open. He looked around the empty room. Frowning, he searched for a note. She always left a note before she left, though it was rare that she left the building. It just wasn't safe to have her running around unprotected and she refused to be accompanied by a guard. Having thoroughly searched the room and not finding a note, he began to panic. 'What if something had happened to her? He couldn't think of anyone stupid enough to harm her, but maybe someone had kidnapped her. Rebels maybe? Or had she just left him?' He head spun with a thousand different scenarios, none of them good. He swallowed hard as a deep cold settled in him. He couldn't lose her, he just couldn't. The sound of the door closing brought him out of his thoughts. He walked out of the bedroom, hoping to see her. Instead of the woman he loved, he saw his brother standing before him. He couldn't stop his shoulders from slumping in disappointment. _

"_Sorry to disappoint you." Miles snorted in reply to seeing Bass's face fall. "Who were you expecting?" Letting out a breath, Bass raked his free hand through his hair. He brought the glass to his lips, realizing that it was empty. He frowned at the glass that had just been full a minute ago and moved to refill it._

"_She's gone Miles."_

"_Who?" _

"_Joan. What if she has been kidnapped by the rebels? Or left?" Miles looked around as if realizing that the women that was normally attached to Bass's arm, was nowhere to be seen. He swallowed hard as he watched Bass pour a glass and down it, before refilling it again. 'This is so not good', thought Miles. Bass turned to face him and Miles saw the pain etched in his face. _

"_Maybe she's just went to get something? I'm sure she will be back." Miles said unconvinced. It sounded fake to his own ears. He had noticed the shift in the way she had looked at Bass in the past few months, like she found out something she shouldn't have. _

"_She would have left a note if she had done that." He said drinking half the glass in one gulp. _

"_Yeah well maybe she forgot?" Miles said. _

"_Miles!" He hissed in aggravation. With a determined look he grabbed his coat and started walking towards the door._

"_Where you going?" _

"_To look for her."_

"_Oh come on Bass that would be the stupidest thing to do. IF it is the rebels, it might be a tactic to lure you out."_

"_I'm not just going to sit here and do nothing!" _

"_Yes you are. We both are. I'll send some men to look for her." Miles said in his best 'end of story' voice. "Corporal!" He yelled. A young man appeared almost instantly. "Get me Captain Neville." The young man saluted and hurried out the door. A few minutes later Tom Neville comes into the room. Miles explains the situation and sends him to gather a group of soldiers to search the area. After he leaves to carry out his orders, Miles turns to study Bass, who looks as if he is in deep thought. "You know we are probably over reacting and she just forgot to leave a note, right?" _

"_She wouldn't forget something like that." He stated, taking another drink and sitting down heavily on the couch. He sounded so tired and down. Miles noted the gun on the table; at least he didn't have a weapon on him. The last time he had seen and heard him sound like this was that night he had found him at his family's graves. _

"_Ok", he breathed and went to sit across from his friend. "Bass, she's going to come back." _

"_She's not coming back." Bass said. Getting up to retrieved the bottle and another glass; he set it in front of Miles._

"_Drink up brother, it's going to be a long night." Miles only shook his head; for once he didn't want whiskey. He was worried; if she really was gone he knew what that would do to Bass. He wasn't sure he could pull him back from this; he had gotten too attached to her._

_5 hours later_

_The bottle lay empty beside the couch and another almost empty. Bass lounged on the couch, staring at the ceiling with a smirk on his face. Miles had left to talk to Neville about the search, leaving Bass to entertain himself with memories. Many of those memories were about Joan; the one he was currently thinking of was when she had surprised him for his birthday. He laughed thinking about how silly Miles had looked in a paper party hat. In his drunken, relaxed state, he barely heard the door open and close softly. _

"_Must have been a hell of a meeting." Said a voice he thought he would never hear again. He turned his head slowly, afraid that he had imagined it, to see a women a few years younger than him standing by the door. A rifle was slung over her shoulder and a sword was belted around her hips. He swallowed hard as he studied what he could only assume was a hallucination before him. He noticed the way her long straight brown hair fell like a cloak around her shoulders. She was decked out in all black leather, pre blackout of course. "Damn", he thought, "she looked good!" _

"_Bass, you ok?" She asked looking at him with concern as she set her sword and rifle on the table next to his. _

"_Joan?" He replied, sitting up. She watched as his face changed from complete surprise to confusion, to anger all in the matter of a few seconds. "Where the hell have you been!?" Her eyes landed on the two bottles on the ground. She ran a hand nervously through her hair, glancing around. He scared her when he got this drunk; he became unpredictable. She knew she couldn't tell him the truth; he would kill her if she did. _

"_I was visiting a friend." She replied smoothly. It was the truth, she had been. She knew he could always tell if she was lying, but not when she told a half-truth. His eyes narrowed. _

"_I don't believe you." He said, his blue eyes so cold, they seemed to look right through her. She struggled to stare directly into his eyes, trying to will him to believe her. Of course he didn't and had crossed the room, grabbing hold of her. It never failed to surprise her how fast he could move, even drunk. His grip on her arm was like steel._

"_Bass let go, your hurting me." She said in barely above a whisper. When he didn't relinquish his hold on her, she began to struggle. "Bass!"_

"_Not until you tell me where you were!"_

"_With a friend I told you!" She yelled back._

"_You don't have any friends!" She stopped struggling at that and looked him right in the eyes._

"_And whose fault is that?" She said glaring at him. He almost seemed to wince at that._

"_Where. Were. You." He asked again. She could hear him fighting for control. She tried to form a believable story with out telling him everything. He must have guessed what she was doing because he growled and slung her towards the couch. Suddenly the doors opened and in walked a private. He was maybe 17. His eyes went from Bass to her to back and forth, trying to figure out what to do. He looked scared to death. _

"_What?!" Bass growled at him._

"_Capitan Neville sent me to give you a report, Sir." He answered, snapping to attention._

"_Go ahead."_

"_He said to tell you that Joan was spotted sneaking out of the old subway system. He assumed that she had been outside the walls, Sir." Bass slowly turned to look back at her._

"_Dismissed." He said without looking at the kid again. The kid practically ran out of the building. She swallowed nervously at the look in his eyes as he slowly advanced to where she lay on the floor. She averted her eyes and began to look for escape options. He stopped in front of her and slowly lowered himself into a crouch. He reached out and grabbed her chin in his hand, gently turning her to face him. _

"_Why were you outside the walls?" He asked calmly, too calmly. 'The calm before the storm' she thought._

"_Like I said I was visiting a friend." She said forcing herself to look him the eye. He nodded slowly. _

"_And would you mind telling me where and who this friend is?" _

"_Why so you can have them executed too?" She said bitterly. She saw the change in his eyes a split second before she felt his hand collide with her face. She gasped and her hand went to her face in shock. He had gotten plenty mad before but he had never hit her._

"_You do NOT get to talk to me like that." He hissed. When she didn't answer him he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her to her feet. _

"_Bass! Stop!" She yelled at him, knowing it would do no good. He dragged her to the bedroom and through her on the bed. As he went to the closet, Joan realized that her nose was bleeding. She was preoccupied with her nose that she didn't notice that Bass had gotten a couple of sets of handcuffs out of the closet. He grabbed her right arm and quickly handcuffed it to the bed. Then while she was confused he did the other arm. Then he left the room._

"_What the hell Bass!" She yelled after him. "Bass!" She yanked on the handcuffs but found it only made her wrists hurt. He came back about 15 minutes later. _

"_Bass…" She started when her eyes fell to what he had in his hand. It was a red hot branding iron with the Militia symbol on it. "Wwwait Bass. Please don't do this."_

_He held up the brand showing it to her as he studied it. _

"_If you're going to be running around outside the walls. Then I want everyone to know that you're mine."_

"_Bass stop! Lets talk about this!" She pleaded. She had never begged anyone for anything in her life, but she was begging him. It wasn't the brand so much, but the way it was being forced on her. She would have gotten one had he asked, but for him to force her? She knew that if he did this it would taint what they had and she knew she would never trust him again. Not completely._

"_Its for you own protection, babe." He said. His voice sounded a million miles away. _

"_Bass please don't do this." She begged one last time before he pressed the hot iron to her wrist. Their eyes locked. It didn't hurt at first, then her whole arm exploded in pain and she screamed. The doors flew open and Miles stood there looking in shock at the scene before him. Joan looked away from Bass and to Miles in time to see something flash in Miles' eyes. Was that anger? _

The screams echoed in Monroe's head and he could still see that look in Miles eyes. He had never seen his brother look at him with such anger. He remembered Miles yelling at him about how he hurt everyone around him. He looked miserably at the food before him, but his appetite had vanished. He shook his head trying to get the memory out of his head. Movement out of the corner of his eye made him turn to look out the open kitchen door. He walked over to it and peered out into the darkness. He saw Joan stalking away. Even after all those years apart he still knew when she was upset. With a heavy sigh, he stepped out into the night and walked after her. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok this chapter is about why Joan was outside the city walls and the friend she was visiting. I wasn't going to do this flashback yet but it seemed to fit good here so here you go. Please review and tell me your thoughts. **

Chapter 7

_Joan stood on a back porch looking out at the beautiful trees. She had found herself missing this. Philly was nothing like this with its rutted, broken concrete streets and the hustle and bustle of people. When she had woke up that morning, she knew she needed to see the outside of the city. She sighed as she looked at the sun high in the sky. She wished that had been the only reason that she had come here. Of course it wasn't. She had received a note that there was to be a meeting at this house and she was requested to attend. She didn't normally attend, instead she would have someone relay information to and from her, but this one was important. Getting out of Philly was easy, it was getting back in that was hard. Since Bass had stepped up security a few months ago, she hadn't been able to get out of the city much. Heck she hadn't even been able to get outside the building without him insisting on a guard for her! She rolled her eyes. He was getting way to paranoid. Hearing the sound of horses approaching, she made her way through the old house and to the front door. Opening the door and stepping out she saw seven riders dismounting. _

"_Took you long enough." She said leaning against one of the posts on the porch. One of them looked up and smiled at her. _

"_Sorry Joan but your boyfriend stepped up patrols in the area." The corner of her mouth twitched, remembering the increased amount of patrols she had seen on her way here. "You should probably wait until dark before heading back." She nodded as she glanced over the rest of the group. They were all from different sections in the Republic._

"_Shall we?" She said gesturing inside. As they followed her in and sat around a table, she turned to the man that had spoken outside._

"_Well you called this meeting Max, so you get to lead it." She said sitting down in the chair close to the head of the table._

"_Fair enough." He said nodding to her with a smile, but as he turned to address the group he became very serious. "I think you all know why I called this meeting." He received nods and grumbles in return. "The Monroe Republic has become unbearable to live in. There are high taxes being put in place, soldiers housed in our homes, and our children conscripted. A war with the Georgia Federation is inevitable!" He voice raises. "As the leaders of our districts it is up to us to rally our people against this tyrant!" _

"_You would have us fight the Militia? With what? Pitchforks?" Says an older, heavier set man with a chuckle. "That's suicide." Joan looked sideways at him, studying him. He was the newest to the group, from the district close to the plains nation she thought._

"_We have sources that could get us guns to fight with." Replies Max coolly eying the man. _

"_Ok say we do go to war with the Militia. What do we do when the war clans of the plains nations attack? We would have no Militia to back us up." Yup she was right. The fool acted like they got so much protection now. Before she could voice her opinion, Max spoke up._

"_I guess you would have about the same amount of protection as you have now." Joan smirked as the man grumbled._

"_And where would we get these guns from?" Asked the man sitting behind her. She did know him. He was in charge of the district that Philly was in. He was also in charge of relaying her information to Max. _

"_We have someone working on that." Max replied looking at Joan. She nodded knowing the someone he was referring to. The man studied them carefully before asking other questions about the resistance. This back and forth went on for several hours. Joan noticed the light beginning to fail and looked at Max. He seemed to have noticed too and asked the final question, the main one he had come here to ask._

"_Well gentleman and lady, do we have a resistance or don't we?" The room got quiet as they all looked at each other. Joan held her breath, this was a huge decision and she knew this would change things. Big time change things. They all nodded and there was a chorus of yes. _

"_Ok then. This meeting is over." Max says with a relieved look. Joan expelled the breath. She wasn't sure if she should be happy or sad. She sat at the table contemplating her feelings towards the decision as Max walked the leaders out, telling them he would be in touch soon. _

"_Joan?" He asked. She looked up at him distractedly. _

"_Hmm?" _

"_That is the decision you wanted right?" He asked_

"_Of course. The Republic is like a rabid dog that needs to be put down."_

"_And what about the man holding the leash?" She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked away._

"_I should go." She said getting up._

"_You can't keep protecting him." He said as she brushed past him, but he caught her arm and spun her to face him._

"_Joan?" _

"_When the time is right, I'll end it myself." She said looking him right in the eyes. She saw the muscles in his jaw working, but he let her go and stepped back. "Until then, I'll kill anyone that tries." She looked hard at him. _

"_Fine." He said looking back at her. She could do it, she thought, she could kill Monroe when the time came. She frowned at the thought and glanced around, clearing her throat. She did not need to think about this right now._

"_So Nahla ok?" She asked, torn between wanting to change the subject and wondering where her best friend was._

"_Yeah she's supposed to be back in a week. She said she found a good dealer that could get us as many guns and ammunition as we can buy." Joan nodded._

"_Good. Let me know when she gets back." She started to towards the door after he nodded in reply._

"_Hey Joan?" He called when she reached the door._

"_Yeah?" She said turning back to him._

"_Everything ok with Monroe?"_

"_He is getting a little more paranoid but I'm dealing with it." She said. He hesitates before asking. _

"_You would leave him if…if… he hurt you, wouldn't you?" He looked nervous as he said it. _

"_You know I would kill any man that hurt me, Max." She said frowning as he gave a slight chuckle._

"_Yeah you would have to get in line behind me and Nahla." She gave a slight laugh, leaning against the door suddenly needing the extra support._

"_Why would you ask that?" She was nervous. He didn't really think Bass would hurt her did he?_

"_Its just your… different when you're with him. Like your judgment is off." She stared at him before busting out laughing._

"_Now you're the one being paranoid Max. My judgment is fine." _

"_Yeah maybe I am." He said laughing and running a hand frustratedly through his blond hair._

"_See ya Max." She said shaking her head and closing the door behind her. As she walked into the night heading in the direction of Philly, she pondered the question Max had asked. Would she really leave Bass? Even at the thought of it she felt a pain in her heart. Why had she gotten so attached to him? She looked up at the full moon, hoping Bass would still be in the meeting he had told her about and she wouldn't have to explain to him where she was. She really hated lying to him, she thought as she hurried though the night. _

Joan sat leaning against an old oak tree. She wore a mask that hid her emotions from the outside world, the sadness in her eyes and the single tear sliding down her face the only sign of emotion. Her wrist burned as she thought about that night. She gave an unhumorous laugh as she thought of Max's question to her before she had returned to Philly. She remembered thinking on the way back that Bass would never hurt her and if he did she would never let him get away with it. But he had and she had let him. She was suddenly filled with rage. Not at him but at herself. Why hadn't she fought back? She could have fought him off enough to get her gun! She could have ended everything that night. She sighed, Max had been right; her judgment was and always had been off around him. Take today for example; she had welcomed him into her home and back into her life without a second thought when she should have killed him on sight! She shook her head, why did she get so mixed up when he was around? She heard the crunch of leaves and turned quickly, a handgun pointed at the person's heart. It just happened to be the heart she wanted to rip out right now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok so, I experimented a little with this chapter by switching between points of views a lot so tell me if it is too confusing. **

Chapter 8

Monroe had followed Joan into the woods and had watched as she collapsed onto the ground near a tree. He was curious as to what she would do and had been surprised to see a tear fall from her eye. He swallowed hard, she rarely cried. He watched her for a little while, giving her a chance to calm down before approaching.

"Hey its just me." He said putting his hands up when she spun around and held the gun on him. He lifted his eyebrows in shock when she didn't lower the gun. Was she really considering shooting him?

"You want to put that down?" He asked starting to regret his decision to follow her. Finally she lowered it but didn't put it away. Did she think he would attack her? Or was she still thinking about shooting him? He wasn't sure so he said the only thing he could think of.

"You can put that away, I'm not going to hurt you." He immediately clamped his jaw shut. She stared at him in disbelief before giving a bitter laugh.

"That suppose to be funny Monroe?" She said her eyes flashing.

"No I..I.." He stuttered, "I don't know what you want me to say." He said truthfully. She looked back at him steadily. "If you want me to say sorry I will. I'm sorry about what I did and about what happened between us."

"You've said that before." She said turning away from him.

"Yeah well I mean it this time." He says taking a few steps closer to her. She cut her eyes to watch him but doesn't say anything. He looked so sincere. In fact the more she looked at him, the more her mind started to wonder to happier times. _Stop!_ She commanded herself. Think of all the bad times, of all the pain he caused you. She let him walk closer until he was within arms reach before turning to face him. A memory popped into her head of a night much like this one, where she had been mad at him and like that night she had begun to think of other things. Like the way the moonlight filtering through the trees hit his skin or the puppy dog look he was giving her. She felt herself starting to melt. _Damn him and damn that look._ She looked him in the eyes as he advanced a few more steps. Her breath caught in her throat as she backed up only to feel a tree behind her. _Great. _Her mind was going a million miles an hour as she tried to think of a way out of this. She didn't trust herself right now and she sure as hell didn't trust him!

Monroe looked at the woman in front of him, she had relaxed some with the tree to her back. It was almost as if backing into the tree had made the decision for her. He remembered her teasing him earlier that day. She would never admit it but she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He chuckled to himself, it was just like old times. Memories came to his mind in flashes. She always made the first move; he just had to be patient. His hand found the gun, still in her hand. He slowly worked her fingers free of it and tossed it to the side. He wanted that gun far out of her reach before he attempted anything. He leaned in closer, so close that he was inches from her mouth. He could hear her breathing was ragged.

Joan clenched her hands into fists to make them stop trembling. Having him so close was really getting to her. Her mind once again wondered to that night like this one so long ago. That night had been many things. She had learned that she loved him and the charming control he had on her that would keep her beside him so loyally for years. She almost smiled as she remembered the naïve question she had asked him. She wondered if he remembered his answer. Her lips parted to ask the question. She noted the way his eyes seemed to dance and she had to fight not to laugh.

He wet his lips, triumph flowing through him in anticipation of the kiss and what it would lead to.

"Do you think that if the blackout had not happened we would have found each other?" She asked. Surprise made him pull back. He gave a light laugh; that was not what he was expecting. He raked a hand frusteratedly through his hair. He knew what she wanted to hear, the irony of this night and one long ago was not lost on him.

"If we hadn't then I would not have known such happiness as I know now when I'm with you." He said with a smile. She smiled back at him as they both thought back to that night. His breath caught as he remembered her kissing his neck, driving him crazy with soft caresses full of passion.

She watched his eyes fill with lust. It made her remember his lips crashing against hers, sending tingles through her whole body. His hands moving over her body making her want him more. She let out a shaky breath and before she could think of any more reasons about why she shouldn't, she closed the distance between them.

Monroe was so deep in thought thinking about the memory that her lips on his caught him by surprise. Her hands that had been on his face slid through his hair, pulling him into the kiss; he leaned into it. One arm wrapped around her back pulling her closer to him and the other found the tree as he pushed her back against it, deepening the kiss.

Joan slid one hand down his chest and to the hem of his shirt, letting her hand slip under it to the warm skin underneath. He moaned against her mouth and shifted, making a shiver run up her spine. She felt the muscles in his back ripple under her hand. She opened her eyes to see his closed as he pulled her even closer to him. Her mind was in a fog, but she could have sworn she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She blinked a few times trying to clear her head. She saw it again and broke away from the kiss. Her eyes widened and a cold dread gripped her as she saw a figure holding a crossbow with an arrow notched and aimed at the back of the man in front of her.

"Bass!" She gasped.

He felt her stiffen against him before she said anything and his eyes flew open. She pushed him hard to the right side of the tree, causing him to lose his balance and fall. She dived to the other side as an arrow struck the tree where they had been. Instinct made him struggle to his feet immediately. He rushed the guy with the crossbow while he was trying to reload. He planted a fist in the guys face, knocking him out cold. He heard Joan cry out and turned to see three men around her, one with his hand knotted in her hair. Her hands gripped the one in her hair and she looked at him, a grimace of pain on her face. Their eyes locked and he felt his blood boil. Testosterone mixed with adrenaline and rage was a bad combo for him.

"Let her go now and you can walk away." He lied. The guy hurting her wasn't walking away. They all snickered.

"Kill him." Said the guy holding Joan. As the two other goons rushed him, he saw her struggling with the man. He switched his attention to the two assailants, who had now drawn swords. He twisted and turned avoiding the sharp blades. The younger of the two made the mistake of getting too close and Monroe was behind him, grabbing the attacker's knife from its sheath and stabbing him with it. He danced away as the other guy made wild slashes at him. This guy was better than the other but still not very experienced. Monroe waited and sure enough the other guy made a mistake and allowing him to get the sword on the ground. It ended quickly after that. The guy was no match for someone of Monroe's experience. After he ran the blade through him, he turned in time to see the lead brute throw Joan behind him and unsheathe his blade. He charged Monroe, catching him off guard with the speed at which he could move. Their blades clashed and they were locked in battle. He wasn't an amateur but still wasn't on the same level as Monroe. Monroe took his time; slicing little pieces off here and there, taking him down slow. Every time he thought about ending it, the image of Joan in pain looking at him made him keep going. The man was on his knees now, he breathing ragged. Monroe gave a short laugh as he circled him, slicing his arm and back.

Joan put a hand to her hair where the brute had had a hold of her. _Ouch! _She thought, shaking her head to clear it. Her eyes landed on the man on his knees, blooded with several flesh wounds. She gasped as she watched Monroe circle the man like a predator would prey. She shuddered at the look in his eyes; General Monroe was back. She felt fury build in her and without even thinking about it she walked to the sword of the dead guy near her, picking it up. She strided over to the wounded guy and plunged it into him. Monroe looked at her with a mix of disbelief and rage.

"What did you do that for?!" He demanded. _God he looked like a kid that had just had his favorite toy taken away, _she thought.

"There was no point in torturing him." She said biting back the rage she felt.

"Of course there was! He hurt you!" He yelled back. Gunshots cut off her reply. She gasped as she looked towards the houses.

"Oh no." She breathed, but before she could move Monroe had a hold of her arm. "Let go!" She snarled at him.

"Wait you will get yourself killed you just go charging in there!"

"I don't care! I would give my life for them!" She yelled back, glaring at him, "Something you wouldn't know about." She wrenched her arm out of his grip and took off.

"Joan wait!" Monroe called after her. She couldn't hear him, all she could think of was the people she called family, the people she protected, were in trouble. If she was too late she knew she could never forgive herself. She swallowed the fear that that thought brought up and ran faster. She burst from the trees and right into a war zone.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Monroe watched her take off. _Damn! Why couldn't she just listen to him! _He caught the gleam of something out of the corner of his eye. Walking over to it he saw it was her handgun. _Great! She doesn't even have a gun on her and she goes running off into God knows what! _He growled in irritation and picked up the gun. With a gun in one hand and a sword in the other, he hurried in the direction she had gone. He wondered once again what it was about her that made him chase after her instead of running the opposite way like he should be. He reached the edge of the trees and stopped short at the chaos before him. Fires lit the village to a bight glow; shadows of sword battles and gun fights alike danced on the ground. The sounds of war hit him, making him rethink his decision to join the fight. He wasn't a coward and didn't mind fighting but this was not his fight. He didn't owe these people anything. He was brought out of his thoughts at the sound of pounding hooves. He looked to his right to see the herd of horses that had been in the pen, now thundering towards him. He quickly took shelter behind a tree as they thundered past, herded by men on horseback. He shook his head; it was a shame, they had had a nice little village going. He looked back at the fight and felt his breath catch. Joan was standing on top of a wagon, an automatic rifle in her hands. He half smiled as he imagined her eyes flashing every time she pulled the trigger. He watched as she mowed down a line of bandits that were rushing Nahla a few paces away. Nahla for her part was throwing knifes at the advancing enemy, but was being pushed back towards the wagon where Joan was. Monroe winced thinking back to the one that had landed by his head, realizing it could just as easily have been his heart. Joan, having apparently run out of bullets, now had a sword and was chopping down the men trying to get in the wagon to get to her. He noted the graceful flow of her sword and the way her body seemed to move as one with the sword. He swallowed hard as he watched her, remembering her lips on his before they had been interrupted. He shook his head to clear it of the thoughts and emotions that were brought on by the memory. He did not need to think of that right now. He focused back on the fight in time to see Nahla throw a knife at a guy that had slipped behind the wagon with a torch, the flame catching the wood on fire. Joan abandoned the wagon and made her way over to where Nahla was being over run and out of knifes. He watched, shocked as Nahla picked up a sword and the pair began to fight back to back. They were the perfect team both seeming to know were the other was at all times, no communication needed. Monroe felt a twinge of regret; he and Miles had fought like that many of times. He knew what it was like to know someone so well that you didn't need to ask you just knew. He watched as more bandits rushed them; they were good but there were too many. He sighed, _so much for staying out of the fight. _He began to make his way towards the fighting duo. Few dared to get in his way and the ones that did he shot. Most left him alone though going after easier targets.

Joan loved sword fights, but this was getting ridiculous! There was so many of them! She had picked up another sword and was now fighting with two. Raising one to block and driving the other into the gut of the man she was fighting. She glared at the two cuts on the man's shoulder. It made an "s" then another "s" turned on its side going though the first one like a lower case "t" just with two "s" instead of lines. It reminded her of the Nazis symbol. She snorted that made sense because the man who made it was like a mini Hitler. A man named Silas Sinclair led the war clan that was attacking them. She glanced at all the bodies on the ground. Silas had done a lot of recruiting; his forces had never been this big. She couldn't help but give a slight smirk and think he should have concentrated more on quality than quantity.

"This is fun and all but you should really be doing more fighting and less smirking!" Yelled Nahla. She turned to see Nahla fighting three at once. _Oops. _She quickly engaged one. This one was a bit of a challenge, he actually knew how to block a sword decently and was prancing around her with the energy of a fresh fighter. She noticed one of the two that Nahla was fighting slowly start to work his way around behind her.

"Nahla." Joan warned.

"Joan stop playing around and get over here and help me!" Nahla retorted back angrily. Joan gave a short laugh.

"I'm not!" She yelled over her shoulder, focusing on the man in front of her. "Alright prancy pants settle down, your making me tired." He charged her, swinging his blade with more force than she would have expected. She blocked and got a nice cut in on his exposed side before stepping out of reach as he slung his blade wildly at her. "Tisk tisk" she clicked with her tongue. "Never swing wildly at your opponent," she chided, risking a glance over at Nahla. He let out an enraged yell and charged again, his swings wild with rage. Joan just danced away and waited for him to give her an opening. It came a few seconds later when he over stepped and was struggling to keep his balance. Joan was behind him in a second, dragging the blade across his throat. She watched him fall to the ground gurgling with a hand to his throat.

"Joan!" She wheeled immediately to see Nahla swing her sword to block the one in front of her, leaving her back exposed to the guy behind her. Joan eyes widened and she moved to help. She only got a few steps when she heard someone running up behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled and instinctually she dropped to the ground, hearing the swish of the blade where her head had been. She kicked out with her legs and caught her attacker in the knees causing them to buckle beneath the person. He landed next to her, so close that she could smell the rotted breath coming from his mouth. She swallowed at the bile that rose in her throat. He reached his hand out and grabbed for her. That was a mistake. Joan had expected this and was already grabbing for the knife at her belt, unsheathing it in time to slash his wrist. He cried out and lunged at her.

_Dammit Joan where are you! _Nahla thought angrily. She risked a glance in her direction in time to see the man lunge at Joan. She gasped; there was nothing she could do and she had problems of her own. She made eye contact with the guy in front of her a split second before she felt the sting of the blade as it slashed her shoulder. She cried out despite herself, feeling her wounded shoulder give to the force of the man she was blocking. She swallowed hard; after everything she had been through, just to lose to a toothless goon?!_ No_, she thought, _not tonight. _With all the force she could muster she pushed back against the sword. She was able to push him off balance. She heard the man behind her move a second before she felt the blade at her throat.

"He said he only needed the other one alive," he sneered in her ear. "So don't…." He never finished as a knife was drove into his back. Nahla twisted away from the blade only cutting herself a little, before stumbling to the ground. She felt relieved that Joan had finally decided to get her butt over here and do something, but as she looked up at the person standing above her, she felt her blood boil.

"A thank you would be nice." Said Monroe his voice dripping sarcasm. _Sheesh he had just saved her life and still she glared at him! _

Joan had heard Nahla cry out. Rage filled her and she dispatched the guy quickly, struggling to her feet. She noticed that the rest of the war clan was disappearing into the trees. The fight was over. She turned to where Nahla had been fighting, dreading the possibility she didn't want to face. The scene before her took her a minute to come to terms with. Nahla was on the ground, bloodied but alive with Monroe standing over her. Even as she walked towards them intent on seeing if Nahla was ok all she could think of was he had followed her; he had saved what was most precious to her, her best friend, her sister. Her heart seized up as a different scene flashed in her head, one of Nahla lying dead.

Monroe watched her approach, their eyes locked. The look on her face when she turned around had been one of pain. She had really thought she was too late. Now she knelt at her friend's side and pulled her into a hug before inspecting the wound on her shoulder. It was a quick hug but he felt that in that second something had past between them, something that said 'we're both still here.' The corner of his mouth twitched and he looked away. He and Miles had a look that they used to communicate that, no words necessary. He looked around at the damage the fight had caused. Fires were everywhere, lighting up the night. Slowly people not tending to the wounded were starting to put them out. He looked up at the dark sky and sighed, it would be daylight soon, then the damage would be visible.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Monroe had been right; the daylight had revealed much more damage. There was a lot of casualties and wounded. He saw Nahla and Joan walk over to where the dead were being lined up for burial. As he made his way over to them, he watched Joan bend down and close the eyes of a small child. Two adults lay next to the child. _A whole family_, thought Monroe.

"So now what?" He asked as she straightened. She turned to look at him and he saw the anger in her eyes. She always did have a soft spot for kids.

"Now we avenge and get back what was stolen from us." She snapped.

"With what army?" He asked, sweeping his arm out over the burned village. "What few men you had, are dead! That was serious bad planning on your part to stock a village with nothing but women and children. What did you think was going to happen?" Her eyes flashed.

"You really think that was all the men I have?" She asked, eyebrows raised.

"I don't see anymore."

"They are due back soon."

"You just send your military force off and leave the village unprotected?"

"They are on a supply run. Supply runs usually require more protection than the village. I didn't think Sinclair would be stupid enough to attack us!" She said, looking sadly down at the young child.

"Its not your fault Joan. We all made that choice." Said Nahla coming up beside her. Joan only looked away.

"Wait how do you know who did it?" Asked Monroe. Joan walked over to where the enemy dead are being piled up to be burned. She points to the symbol on the man's shoulder.

"That's Sinclair's mark." Monroe nods.

"Joan when that guy had a hold of me, he said he only needed you." Said Nahla as she turned to Joan. Joan cursed under her breath.

"Why would he want you?" Asked Monroe, frowning.

"In case you haven't noticed, that was textbook Militia style attack." She said, watching him carefully. "He has an obsession with the Monroe Republic and the man who ran it." She said looking pointedly at him.

"Me? He's obsessed with me?" Monroe laughed.

"Yeah real funny Monroe, you have a psychotic fan." Snapped Nahla. He noticed they were both staring daggers at him, so he cleared his throat.

"So he is copying the way I ran the Militia. How does that have anything to do with him wanting you?" Joan shook her head.

"He only knows what he saw on the outside. He doesn't know how the Republic ran on the inside. So what better way to learn than to have someone who had front row seats telling you?"

"Oh." He said looking at the pile of bodies.

"And he has a little crush on Joan." Added Nahla with a smirk.

"Yeah, he almost got what he wanted one time." She said, her eyes darkening at the memory. Monroe looked at her curiously. "He's a real son of a…." Suddenly Lily came running up, cutting her off.

"Their back! A few minutes out." She gasped out of breath. Monroe frowned as the mourning village erupted with commotion. A small smile played on Joan's lips as she glanced at Nahla, who was straining her eyes as she looked at the tree line. Monroe watched as Nahla started towards where a group was already gathering at the tree line where the bridge was. Joan glanced at him.

"Come meet my army Monroe." She said turning with a smile. He followed her to the crowd, where 40 men and women armed to the teeth on horses had arrived. Everywhere he looked there were men holding their wives and families. It reminded him of before the blackout when he and Miles had come back from a tour and families would be waiting for soldiers. He pushed the memory away as he broke though the crowd to where Joan was. He was shocked to see Nahla in the arms of a blond haired man, their lips locked together.

"Breathe you two, its only been a month." Joan said beside him, rolling her eyes. They broke the kiss and both turned towards them, huge grins on their faces.

"Yeah well a month is a life time for me without her." Said the man looking down at Nahla as she giggled. Joan cleared her throat causing him to glance up and notice Monroe. He immediately straightened and pushed Nahla a little behind him, much to her annoyance. Suddenly he launched him self at Monroe, his fist catching him by surprise.

"Max!" Yelled Nahla, in surprise as she moved towards the two men brawling on the ground. She felt someone grab her arm and pull her back.

"Joan." She warned, "make them stop."

"I don't think even I could do that right now." Joan said back. Nahla looked back to find Joan's eyes locked on the fighting duo. She couldn't be sure but she thought for a moment, Joan actually seemed to be enjoying this! Nahla turned back to the fight in time to see Monroe's head snap to the side from a blow to the jaw. She couldn't help but feel a since of pride fill her as she watched Max get several good hits in on Monroe. The crowd had formed a circle around them, making a fighting ring. The men that had just returned cheered Max on. Max was a very capable fighter and had fought in many ring fights with many brutal men, but never one like Monroe. She had heard Joan talk about the way he fought; she had said he was very good, but so far he hadn't really gotten any good hits in. She glanced at Joan again and noted the strange look in her eyes as she watched the men. She wondered who she wanted to win and why she was allowing this fight in the first place. All those years of protecting Monroe, just to let Max tear into him now? Her thoughts were cut short as Monroe stumbled back into her and Joan. She noticed as Joan caught him and through him back into the ring, it looked like she had whispered something in his ear. She watched as they circled each other before Max lunged and got a hit in that sent Monroe to the ground; the crowd cheered. She couldn't stop the smile that slid across her face. Her joy was short lived as she watched Joan and Monroe lock eyes. She frowned as she watched Joan give the slightest nod of her head, one you would miss if you weren't watching carefully. She watched as Monroe pick himself up off the ground and wipe the blood from his mouth. They squared off again but this time Monroe was the one to attack first, taking the fight to Max and catching him off guard. Monroe got several solid hits in before he sent a crippling blow to Max's head, snapping his head to the side and sending him to the ground. Max shook his head obviously disoriented as he pushed himself to his knees. She saw Monroe readying to hit him as soon as he regained his feet. She looked at Joan expecting to see her stepping in to stop him, but she stood there watching. Nahla did see the tension in the set of her shoulders and a hard look had replaced the happier look from earlier. She turned back as Max swayed to his feet and Monroe readied for the final blow. She glanced at Joan again, still no sign that she was going to stop this. _Fine_ she thought_, if she's not going to stop this then I am! _She surged forward and since Monroe was turned with his back slightly to her, her fist hit the side of his head. He went to the ground more out of surprise then pain, but struggled to his feet quickly as Nahla placed herself between the two men. She knew Monroe didn't know who had hit him and he would come up swinging, so she was ready to fight when he came at her.

"Enough." Came Joan's voice as she stepped in front of Nahla, making Monroe stop short. She watched as he blinked at the blood running into his eyes. She turned to Max as he spit blood on the ground and wiped his mouth before glaring back at Monroe.

"Nice to finally meet you General." Max spat at him. Monroe's eyes flared with anger and he took a step forward only to be met with Joan's hands against his chest, pushing him back.

"I said enough." She breathed. Nahla also push back against Max to stop him. It was clear that both men still wanted blood. They stayed that way for a minute, glaring at each other; the crowd silent, wondering what would happen next. The rumbling of wagons over the bridge broke the tension as everyone turned to watch the supply wagons roll into the clearing with their escort of 20 men. Several more people ran to the newly arrived soldiers. Several others seemed to be searching for loved ones. One of the wagon masters jumped down and walked towards them.

"Where's Martha?" He asked, raising his voice when no one answered, "Where's my wife?"

"I'm sorry but she didn't survive the attack." Said Nahla finally. The man looked at her like she was crazy and scanned the crowd as if expecting to see her. With a strangled cry he pushed through the crowd and stalked towards the burned village. Nahla took Max's hand and began to pull him in the direction of the village; with one last glance at Monroe, he let her. The rest of the crowd slowly started to follow. Until it was just Joan and Monroe left.

"How come more of them didn't seem surprised by the village being attacked?" He asked as they watched the others walk away.

"I sent a messenger last night to tell them. Max needed to know before he got here, to give him time to cool off so he didn't just go charging off and try to attack Sinclair without a plan." She answered shaking her head and starting in the direction of the village. "He's a lot like you in that way."

"We are nothing alike. He's cocky and impulsive."

"Oh really?" She said turning to him with raised eyebrows and a smirk as they walked towards the village.

**So new main character! I hope yall will love Max as much as I do! I have some really good ideas for future chapters. Please review and let me know how I am doing!**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

As Monroe walked beside Joan through the burned village he watched her eyes scanning the damage around them, her face a mask of indifference. He knew she was hiding the pain she felt. She would never admit it but he knew it was there. Even during the Republic days he had seen the pain in her eyes when Militia soldiers would come in wounded or dead. He remembered not seeing it as much in the months leading up to her disappearance. He was jolted out of his thoughts as Joan stopped suddenly at the line of bodies, now surrounded by family and friends. He saw the mask start to crack just before she took a ragged breath and turned away from them, almost running into him. She stopped short in front of him, their eyes locking. She swallowed hard and reached a hand up to wipe at the blood still running from the cut above his eye. His breath caught at her touch. She seemed to realize what she was doing and dropped her hand back to her side, taking a nervous step back.

"Come on. Let get you cleaned up." She mumbled to him before walking towards the big house. It was strange how the fires or the fight hadn't touched it, thought Monroe, as he followed Joan through the door. The scene they walked into was enough to stop both in their tracks. On one of the couches in the living room sat the man he had just fought shirtless, eyes closed. Nahla was beside him, fussing over him with a rag and bandages. He felt a bit of pride as he noted the many bruises and cuts on the man's body. Monroe glanced at Joan just as she shook her head and closed the door hard, announcing their presence. The man didn't even flinch and Monroe couldn't blame him; the way Nahla was tending to his cuts and bruises, Monroe wouldn't have moved either. Nahla had now moved to straddle the man as she dabbed at a cut on his face. His hand moved to rest on her hip as a smile slid across his lips. Joan made a noise beside him.

"Get a room you two, jeez!" Joan said. The man's smile turned into a grin.

"We couldn't make it that far." He said still not opening his eyes.

"Ya well I…" She glanced at Monroe, "WE don't want to look at that!" The man opened his eyes and looked over at them. Every muscle in his body tensed and he tried to get up.

"Max." Nahla warned as she tried to push him back down, but he only picked her up and gently tossed her to the side. "Max!" Monroe felt the adrenaline coming back as Max advanced on him. When he was almost to him, Joan stepped in front of him.

"Max stop!" She commanded.

"Get out of the way Joan!"

"No." She said sternly.

"What the hell is he doing in my house!" He yelled back as Nahla grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back.

"Last time I checked it was my house too." Joan said with a slight smile; her eyes dancing, daring him to challenge her. Max stopped glaring at Monroe and looked Joan in the eyes. "He is my guest." A muscle in Max's jaw twitched.

"Max please don't." Said Nahla quietly. Max looked down at her, his hands clenching and unclenching.

"You're still protecting him." He said with a sigh as he looked back at Joan.

"He is staying so get used to it."

"Can I talk to you in the kitchen Joan?"

"Sure." She stiffened as he pulled out his handgun. He seemed to be thinking about just shooting Monroe and ending it but decided against it and handed it to Nahla.

"If he moves, shoot him." With that he followed Joan through the kitchen door. As soon as the door closed he grabbed Joan and threw her against the wall.

"Why is he here?!" He said angrily. Joan struggled against him. "Stop and answer the question!" She stopped and glared at him.

"Let go!" She snarled at him.

"Not till you answer me!"

"Let go _now_!" She said her eyes locked with his. After a minute like that, he loosened his grip on her. As soon as she felt him start to let her go she hooked her leg behind his and tripped him. He crashed to the ground her on top of him, pinning him. Her hand latched around his throat as she leaned down next to his ear and whispered, "don't you_ ever_ do that again!" She held him pinned to the ground for a few more seconds, letting her words sink in before pushing her self off of him. She turned and walked a few steps away as he picked him self up off the ground. Turning back to him, she met his glare with one of her own. He suddenly dropped his eyes and his shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." He said sounding tired.

"No you shouldn't have." She answered, frowning. "Why did you?"

"I don't know. I just saw red for a minute there." He said as he slumped into a chair.

"Because I was protecting him?" She asked. He nodded.

"That and just him being here period. Death and destruction follow him. Look what happened to the village."

"He didn't do this!" Joan said defensively.

"I didn't say he did. Its just…. Its like he is a jinx or something." He said with a slight laugh. "I mean look what happened to his city, his army! Then he comes here and _bam!,_ look what happens!"

"That doesn't make him a jinx Max." She said shaking her head at him.

"I know but it is a hell of a coincidence don't you think?" Joan looked away.

"That's all it was, just a coincidence." They are silent again.

"He can't stay here." Max finally says getting up.

"He is staying Max and that's that!" She snapped at him.

"Why!? How can you even be in the same room as him after everything he did!?" He look a step towards her, "I won't lose you to him again."

"You're not going to," she replied.

"Your so sure about that aren't you? And what about Nahla? You being with him puts her life at risk."

"He saved Nahla's life yesterday." She answered quietly. Max froze.

"What?"

"I couldn't get to her." She took a breath and looked him in the eye. "If it weren't for him, Nahla wouldn't be here." Max blinked in surprise trying to take in the information.

"What happened?" He asked. Joan told him what she remembered about the battle and about turning around to find Nahla hurt but alive; saved by Monroe. When she finished he only nodded and walked back to the living room.

Monroe watched Nahla lounge on the couch, the gun on the table beside her. She had put it there with a sigh as soon as Max had disappeared. They had both looked at each other when they heard the sounds of a struggle. She glanced over at him.

"What?!" He asked. She had been glancing at him like that for the past couple of minutes. She turned to face him, pulling her legs up so she sat cross legged.

"Why'd you do it?" She asked.

"Do what?" There were many things she could be asking about, none he was sure he wanted to answer.

"Why'd you save me?" He looked at her in surprise; that had not been one of the things he thought she meant. "I mean if Joan hadn't stopped me I would have killed you already. So why?"

"Pay back for not killing me." He said with a chuckle. She looked at him to continue. "And…" The door to the kitchen swung open and Max walked through; Joan trailed behind. He looked tired as he dropped down next to Nahla. He laid his head back and Nahla begin to tend to him again. He felt Joan push him in the direction of the other couch. He gladly accepted the invitation and sat down heavily on the soft cushion. He noticed Max was just watching him now instead of looking like he wanted to kill him. What had Joan said to him? He jumped as a cool cloth touched the cut above his eye. He turned to Joan beside him.

"Would you rather do it yourself?" She asked sarcastically. He gave her a small smile and shook his head. She rolled her eyes and pushed his head away from her before going back to cleaning the cut. With her soft touches, Monroe's eyes began to droop. He was just nodding off when he heard Nahla cry out. His eyes flashed open and he noted the confused look on Max's face and his hand on Nahla's back.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked worriedly.

"No no I'm fine." She said quickly with a tight smile.

"Nahla?" Max sat up and moved his hand under her shirt, till he found the long cut that the sword had made during the battle. Monroe heard Max's breath hiss through his teeth when he raised her shirt up and saw the wound. Pain and anger flashed across Max's features. Nahla nervously licked at her lips before turning Max's head towards her.

"I'm fine," she mumbled against his mouth as she kissed him. As they got more passionate Monroe and Joan looked away. Joan cleared her throat and as if on cue Max lifted Nahla in his arms, carrying her upstairs.

Joan turned back to Monroe to catch him staring at her. He smiled and looked away.

"What?" She asked with a smile.

"Nothing." He said with a chuckle.

"Come on. What is it?"

"That was almost us last night." He said running his hand through his hair. She snorted and got up, rolling her eyes.

"Oh come on. You know its true! You wanted it!" He said grinning as she whirled around and tossed a wet rag at him.

"You really think I would have let things go any farther?" She asked.

"I know you would have." Said Monroe getting up. Joan laughed.

"Your so full of yourself." She tried to push him back down on the couch but he caught her wrists and pulled her with him into his lap.

"Why don't we find out for sure?" He said with a smirk. She glared up at him, but she couldn't hide the smile that crept across her lips as she leaned forward to whisper.

"Lets not." She pushed herself off of him just as the door opened and Lily walked in. Her eyes went from Joan to Monroe and back. "What is it?"

"Some of the men are getting a little rowdy and talking about going after Sinclair's clan tonight." Joan shook her head and ran a hand over her face.

"Ok I'll be right behind you." She waited till the girl had left. "You can sleep in my room upstairs. It's the last door on the left." He arched an eyebrow at her and the smirk returned. She noticed and smiled down at him.

"Sorry lover boy but I will be out all night."

"Why?"

"Lily and I are going to do some scouting tonight."

"All night?"

"Depends on how far we go but yeah probably." She laughed, "Your not afraid to spend the night here without me are you?"

"Well considering you're the only one keeping me alive and I have no weapon, I am a little worried."

"Don't worry you're safe here. No one will go against my orders."

"If you say so." He said glancing around.

"Go get some sleep Monroe." She said with a smile, "and I might let you help plan the attack tomorrow." She added as she was closing the door.

_So they were going to fight back_, thought Monroe. _Was this really his fight? _ He wondered as he trudged up the stairs.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for the support! Reviews make me a very happy writer! **

Chapter 12

Monroe's eyes slowly blinked open. He raised his hand to block out the blinding rays of sunlight streaming in though the curtains. He sat up and took in his surroundings. He was in a nice fully furnished room. There was an antique dresser with a mirror above it. He looked down at the soft bed and ran his hands over the soft sheets. He had had something of similar quality in Philly, but he hadn't expected it here. Running a hand through his hair, he swung his legs to floor. He sighed as he scrubbed at his face, trying to wake up. He had not realized how tired he had been, until he had climbed the steps the day before. He noticed a pile of clothes on a chair beside the bed. He stood up to inspect the items. He picked up a shirt out of the pile and brought it to his nose. He chuckled; it smelled clean, too clean. He thought it a shame to put clean clothes on before bathing. He shook his head before tossing the shirt back on the pile and pulling his dirty shirt over his head, then stepping out of his jeans. He was just reaching for the clean pair of jeans when there was a knock at the door. He looked at the door as the knob turned and a young woman appeared in the doorway holding a pitcher of water. Her jaw dropped in shock as she looked at him. She quickly set the pitcher down on the table next to a bowl and started to hurry out, her cheeks burning a bright red. She stopped at the door only long enough to mumble that there were washcloths in the dresser, before closing the door behind her and retreating down the hall. Monroe could only blink as the door closed. Finally shaking his head he pulled on the jeans before walking to the dresser. There were eight drawers. He rolled his eyes, she could have told him which drawer. He opened the four on the left and not finding the cloths, he started on the right. The top drawer was full of gadgets and odds and ins, obviously Joan's junk drawer. He was about to close it when an old photograph caught his eye. He picked it up and saw it was one of him, Miles, and Joan. He smiled as he remembered the day. He had paid the old photographer well for the pictures that he had taken of the capital of the Republic and his current officers. It had been only a year after Joan had joined them. He laughed as he looked at the picture. Joan had her arms around his neck and Miles was rolling his eyes next to them; they all wore smiles, genuine smiles. Hearing the door open again, he glanced in the mirror to see Joan looking back at him.

"Figured you were up from the way Mary acted." She said leaning against the doorframe casually. He noticed the smirk playing on her lips as her eyes roamed over his bare back. He turned to her, holding up the picture.

"Nice of you to keep a picture of us." He said back, watching as the smirk fell.

"Do you normally dig through other peoples stuff?" She snapped, walking to him and snatching the picture away.

"I was looking for a washcloth. Mary was in a bit of a hurry and didn't mention where they were." She returned the picture to the drawer and closed it before opening the one below it that held the linens. She turned back to him and with a glare tried to walk past him. He stepped in front of her, earning another glare.

"Don't you want to stare a little longer?" He asked with his most charming smile. She laughed.

"Don't flatter yourself, I was just wondering if the shirts would fit." She said glancing at the clothes on the chair. She laughed again as his smile faltered. "Hurry up and get dressed or you will miss the meeting." She added as she brushed past him and closed the door behind her.

Monroe closed the door behind him. He rolled his shoulders as he walked down the hall; the shirt fit perfectly, not too tight, not too loose. It also felt good to scrub some of the dirt away too. As soon as Monroe got to the stairs, he heard the raised voices of several men. He walked down them to find the living room full of men and women. Few turned to look at him but the few that did glared and scowled at him. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Joan. He saw Max engaged in a heated discussion with several other men. He saw Nahla come out of the kitchen followed by several server girls. Nahla went to stand beside Max as the servers put platters of food on a table in the middle of the room. They were soon empty as those closest devoured them. His stomach growled as he looked at the empty platters. He looked up as Joan came out of the kitchen carrying her own plate of food. She noticed him and made her way over to him. He eyed the sausage, bacon and eggs on her plate. She noticed and grabbed a few pieces of bacon before handing the plate to him. He quickly took it and began to shovel the food in. She raised an eyebrow at him as she munched at her bacon, but she didn't say anything. The door opened and several more entered, including Lily. The young girl's eyes searched the crowd before landing on Joan. She moved through the crowd to them quickly.

"Everyone's here now." She reported to her. She frowned at Monroe who was struggling to swallow the food he had been shoveling in with no drink. She grabbed her canteen and offered it to him. He gladly accepted and she took the plate, that still had two patties of sausage and several pieces of bacon on it, from him so he could drink. He chugged the water down quickly and wiped his mouth.

"Thanks." He said as they traded back. He frowned at the now empty plate as Joan chuckled beside him. He looked at Lily to see her cheeks pooched out like a chipmunk. She smiled the best she could at him as he scowled at her. He looked at Joan to find her watching Max and Nahla. When they looked her way she nodded to them. They looked at each other before nodding back.

"Alright everyone sit down and shut up!" Max yelled. They room quieted almost immediately as people sought out a seat or leaned against a wall. "Its time to start planning."

They had planned the whole day. Every plan that was brought up was discussed for hours then shot down. Apparently this Sinclair guy was holed up in an impenetrable castle with plenty of armed guards. So they still didn't have a plan and Monroe had the worse headache he had ever had. He knew the fight they were planning was not his fight. During the exchange of plans, Monroe had found his mind wandering back to the picture his had found that morning. He wanted, no he needed to find Miles. He had also been thinking about his son. It had occurred to him that Miles might have known something. He doubted Miles would have kept something like that from him but he wasn't entirely sure. Ever since he had woken up that night to Miles holding a gun on him, he had begun to think that he didn't know his brother at all. He looked over at Joan leaning against the wall not far from him and noted she didn't look any better than he felt. She glanced at him then and their eyes met.

"Why don't we take a brake and let everyone cool down?" She asked glancing over at Max. Max looked like hell warmed up. His hair was a mess from him running his hands through it in frustration. He had kept his cool the whole time, not once raising his voice in anger at the people around him. But Monroe knew it was a front; he could see the tension churning in the other man. Max nodded to her.

"Take 5 everyone." He said with a sigh. Everyone was up and filing out of the now stuffy house immediately. Monroe hung back with Joan, Nahla and Max; watching as the others exited the house. He wanted out badly but didn't think getting in the middle of a bunch of people that had been casting glares his way all day would be very smart, especially since they were really annoyed right now. "All those hours and nothing to show for it." Said Max as he ran his hand through his hair again causing it to stick up even worse. Nahla frowned and began to try to comb it down with her fingers. Monroe noticed Joan looking at him with a strange look.

"What?" He asked. She was quiet for a minute before answering.

"I have an idea." Max and Nahla looked at her expectantly. "What is the one thing that Sinclair wants?"

"We're not using you as bait." Max said dismissively.

"Not me Max. Monroe." Max glanced at him and frowned.

"How?"

"Think about it. Sinclair wants me because of what I know about the Republic. If I were to walk up to his castle they would let me in so why would that not be true for the General himself?" She said watching Monroe as she said it. Max looked deep in thought.

"No." Max said.

"Why not?" Joan asked.

"Because he can't be trusted."

"I trust him!"

"Are you really willing to risk men's lives on a plan with him at the center?!"

"Yes!"

"Well I'm not!" Max yelled back. They were now glaring at each other across the table. Monroe cleared his throat.

"It doesn't really matter cause I'm not sticking around that long." Monroe said.

"Wh-What?" Joan stuttered turning to him with a shocked expression.

"This isn't my fight Joan. I owe these people nothing." He watched her try to form words but nothing came out.

"So you're just going to leave? Just like that?" Said Nahla hotly. He turned to her in surprise. He had expected her to be the happiest, behind Max, that he was leaving. The glare she was giving him could cut glass.

"Isn't that what you want? Isn't that what all of you want?!" He snapped back. Max was watching Joan who had leaned back against the wall and now had a hard look on her face.

"Why now?" She asked looking up at him.

"I never planned to stay."

"Yes you did. What changed?" He was silent.

"Where's my sword?"

"It's Miles. Isn't it?" She asked. Monroe looked away. "Of course it is. He's the only thing you ever left me for." He thought he heard bitterness seep into her voice.

"I have to find him." He finally said.

"Do you even know where he is?"

"Someone said they saw him headed for Texas." She snorted.

"That's it? Just that he was headed for Texas?" She shook her head. "You will never find him."

"I have to try." He said sighing and turning towards the door. "It was good to see you again Joan." He walked to the door and opened it. He was fixing to step out when Joan's voice stopped him.

"Wait." She closed her eyes as she said the next part. "What if I told you I know where Miles is?" Monroe half turned.

"I would say you were lying." He said looking over his shoulder at her. Her eyes opened and she walked to him.

"And if I'm not?" She said looking him in the eye. Monroe searched her face for any sign that she was lying and found none. He turned to face her, his lips parting in surprise.

"You really do know where he is don't you?" He asked. She nodded.

"If you help us take down Sinclair, I will personally take you to him." She said sincerely.


End file.
